LIFE AT THE BAU WAS... different without JJ and their first case without the motherly blonde reflected that.

Unsure of how the day would pan out, Katharine got ready for the day in her own room while Spencer had retreated to his. Once they were both ready for the day, they left the Morgan-Reid household (as Garcia had so lovingly dubbed it), each with a cup of coffee in hand.

Their arrival at the BAU was different and it wasn't just because JJ was gone. Garcia had apparently arrived before them and the three couldn't take the elevator ride up together as they so often did. Katharine and Spencer rode the elevator together in silence, for the most part, only breaking the tension between them when they had both reached for the panel of buttons on the elevator.

Katharine made her way to her desk, setting her go-bag down there. She finished off her morning coffee and set her mug on her desk, picking up her notebook and sliding a pen behind her ear. She walked into the round table room with Spencer and settled into her usual seat, ignoring the fact that Derek and Emily had swapped seats for the day.

She barely even set her notebook down on the table when Hotch came in, the words falling out of his mouth even before he stepped foot into the room.

"We got a case in Akron, Ohio," he said, remote in hand. "Two couples killed in two weeks."

"One a week?" Emily asked. "That's not much of a cooling-off period."

He clicked the remote again. "Scott and Kathy Hartway. Found in their car in an isolated spot."

"The Son of Sam had a short cooling-off period," Spencer said. "He also attacked couples in cars."

Katharine flipped through the photos on the tablet that had been provided for her. A while back, the team had gone paperless and while everyone had been kitted out with new tech, Spencer had been able to retain the use of his paper files.

"Yeah, but the first couple were killed in their house," Hotch told them. Katharine grimaced at the photos of the crime scene. "Robert and Allison Keppler. In both cases, the husbands were killed with a silenced 9-millimeter, the wife was stabbed multiple times."

"He crosses racial lines," Katharine noted, swiping between the photos of the Hartways and the Kepplers.

"And socio-economic ones. The Kepplers lived in an upscale neighborhood, the Hartways were blue-collar."

Derek looked up from his tablet. "That's a big change in crime scenes, car versus house. Two radically different MOs"

"Not to mention he subdues two people," Rossi said. "That takes a lot of skill."

Katharine scrolled until she reached the ME's report. She read it over, taking note of the different wounds left on each of the victims.

"There's no indication of how he overwhelms them," Spencer said, voicing her thoughts exactly. "There's no antemortem bruising. He doesn't use a blitz attack."

"Well, he's got a 9-millimeter," Emily said, reading from the same report. "He doesn't need to."

"How about signs of forced entry to the car or the house?" Derek asked.

"No," Hotch shook his head. He clicked on the remote again. "But Akron PD Did find this."

Katharine observed the images on the screen. "Handcuffs," she said, minorly shocked. "So he restrains the men and saves the real savaging for the wife."

"Is this right?" Rossi asked, looking up from his tablet. "They found a used condom on both the husbands?"

Hotch nodded in confirmation. "And both had Viagra in their systems and neither had a prescription."

"So the unsub gives the men Viagra and then forces them to have sex before he kills them," Emily said, finally looking up from her tablet. Katharine looked around the room to see that just about everyone had forgone looking at their materials.

"And given the timetable, he's gonna strike again soon," Hotch said. He set the remote on the round table. "We fly to Akron tonight. Wheels up in three hours."

Katharine nodded and shut off her tablet, finishing up jotting down the last details of the case. While she had easy access to the materials, she'd found that writing the information down helped in making it stick. Her brain was not as it first was all those years ago, after all.

She left the briefing room with everyone else, exiting after Emily and before Spencer, and made her way to her desk where she dropped off her notebook. She took up her phone and travel mug before heading into the kitchenette, putting on a pot of coffee while dialing in Nina's number.

She waited a few moments before she could be greeted by the cheery voice of her best friend.

"If I'd wanted to talk to you, I would have called you," she heard Nina jokingly answer the phone. Katharine sighed in relief, glad to hear the familiar voice.

"Nina," she said, smiling. "You know you always want to talk to me."

"You're right," she said. Katharine could practically hear the smile that was spread across her face. "But what's up, chica. You barely call anymore. Forgotten about me now that you're a big bad FBI agent?"

Katharine blew a stay piece of hair out of her face, reaching up to move it behind her ear when it just settled back onto her face. "Just the case we just got... reminds me an awful lot about the McHale murder."

"Katharine..." she heard Nina sigh lightly. "You know, they never did give you time to mourn. They just threw you right into Ireland."

"They threw us into Ireland," Katharine corrected, lowering her voice. Technically, the details about Ireland were still confidential, considering what had gone down. If she needed to, she could be ready to reassume the identity of Melody Karter in a heartbeat.

"Are you still seeing your therapist? Dr. Abrams?"

Katharine rolled her eyes. "No, Dr. Abrams was a SHIELD therapist. Legally, she's not allowed to practice anymore."

"That actually sucks for the doc," Nina sympathized. "Oh, I meant to ask. Are you free sometime in the next two weeks?"

"Uh, if it's during the weekend I am," she said, pouring herself a cup. She stirred in her sugars before taking a sip. She set the pot back into the machine and screwed the top back on her travel mug, taking up the cup and returning to her desk. "Why?"

"Well," Nina said. "Tony was thinking about taking you out on a loan from the FBI. He wanted you up here to discuss you becoming his government liaison."

"What?" Katharine said, taking out a file from her unfinished stack. She hadn't finished all her paperwork and was now on a two-case backlog. "Is that even a real position?"

"It can be," Nina replied. Katharine took a sip of her coffee. "One signature is all we need."

"Benefits?" she asked, opening the file. She signed her name in several places before reading through the material.

"Protection, health, maybe another therapist," Nina listed off. "Oh! And you get to see me at least once a month, cost-free."

Katharine bit the inside of her cheek. "And repercussions?"

"Virtually none," Nina said."

"Except?"

"Being at Tony Stark's beck and call so long as you aren't on a case."

Katharine swore, causing Derek to look up in surprise. She waved him off, telling him it was nothing. She rubbed her temple slightly, just the thought of working for Tony and the FBI already giving her a headache.

"I'll think about it," she told her friend.

Nina cheered on the other side of the phone. "I'll let him know you're coming up in two weeks!"

Katharine started to protest but her best friend had already hung up. She swore again when Hotch came out of his office, requesting her presence. Nina worked fast when she wanted something.

She stood from her desk and made her way into Hotch's office, closing the door behind her as her boss drew the shades.

"I understand Tony Stark has shown some interest in you as a government liaison."

Katharine wanted to sink through the floor right then and there. "Sir--"

He cut her off. "I think you should take the job. Mr. Stark would most likely be able to protect you better in the face of the Senator. After all, it is him that has been the most verbal in your removal from the FBI."

"He's anti-Inhuman," Katharine realized. "And you think taking this opportunity with Stark would help me? You do realize that means once a month I would need to be absent for several days at a time, no set schedule. Sir, with all due respect, I couldn't do that to the team. Not after we just lost JJ to the Pentagon."

"I think it would be in your best interest to take this job," Hotch said.

Katharine sighed, knowing he was right. If something happened to her legally, there was only so much the BAU and the FBI could do. At least under Tony Stark, she was guaranteed that her rights would be protected as best as possible. She nodded in resignation. "May I return to my desk, sir?"

"Dismissed," he confirmed, allowing her to leave his office and return to the bullpen. She Saw Emily and Spencer hastily look away while Derek didn't try to hide his stare. She made her way back to her desk, pushing aside the coffee she had poured not even ten minutes ago.

"What was that?" Derek asked, eyeing his cousin suspiciously. Katharine shook her head. She'd tell him when they didn't have a case to worry about.

"It was nothing."

THREE HOURS LATER, Katharine had settled into her seat next to Spencer. She had her personal journal out in front of her and was jotting down just about anything that had come into her mind.

Emily sat across from her while Hotch had sat next to her friend, which was different seeing as JJ was normally sat next to the brunette.

"I'm just waiting on a few last-minute details," Hotch said, pocketing his device. Katharine closed her journal with her pen still in between its pages, wrapping the elastic band around the covers. "Let's go ahead and get started."

"I keep bumping on the fact that he makes a married couple have sex before he kills them," Rossi started them off, coming back from making himself a cup of coffee. "What is he accomplishing with that?"

Spencer shifted in his seat next to her. "You know, the stabbing of the wives is almost certainly piqueristic. The unsub gets sexual gratification from penetration with a knife. Most piquerists are impotent--men like Albert Fish, Iain Scoular, Andrei Chikatilo-- so for him, it could be a substitute for sex."

Katharine made a face at that. She never liked using knives when she fought. She was fine with throwing them but didn't much revel in the feeling of stabbing her opponent. After all, she was an expert sharpshooter for a reason. Guns made sure that she could be a relative distance away from her target, ensuring she wouldn't have to get too bloody.

"The unsub could also be playing a mind game," Emily pointed out. "Neither shot to the husband is clean, so they have to watch what he's doing to their wives as they're dying."

"So this guy challenges their manhood by forcing them to have sex, and then mocks them with the overkill," Derek said. "That kind of psychological torture makes him a sexual sadist."

"It would explain the amount of control he exhibits over the crime scene--the handcuffs, the condoms, the silenced weapon," Spencer said, looking up from his hands. "He plans out every detail."

Katharine leaned onto the table, propping her head up using her intertwined hands. "If he's that precise, he would be just as precise in his victimology. But he's all over the map in terms of class and race."

"Well, there must be something else about the couples that attracts him," Emily said. "Something that he couldn't learn by stalking them anonymously. Maybe the couples met the unsub before."

Hotch nodded, satisfied with the theories they had managed to pull together on their own. "Rossi, Reid, and Katharine, will you handle the family interviews? Morgan and Prentiss, go to the latest crime scene. We need to learn as much as we can about him, so let's really pin down the MO."

Katharine nodded. She reopened her journal and right as her pen hit the paper, someone entered the plane.

"Well, look at you, look at you," she heard her cousin say. Curious, Katharine tucked one leg under her and used the limb as leverage to half stand in her seat. She grabbed the back of her seat for balance and met the eyes of Penelope Garcia.

She let out a low whistle. "Oh shit, you look good Penny G," she said looking her friend up and down. "But I gotta say, I miss the colors."

She saw her friend blush slightly at her words. Katharine winked at her and Garcia pretended to fan herself before straightening out her skirt.

"Meet your new communications liaison," she said, meeting Hotch's eye before correcting herself. "Trial communications liaison."

"Garcia, I don't get to say this often, but I had no idea there was this side of you," Rossi said, looking at her choice in outfit in approval.

"Well, I figure since I'm going to have to interact with the mass populace, I should dress in the traditional costume of a mere mortal," Garcia said before her eye twitched and she was reaching up to her waterline. "Ow. Ow."

"What's wrong?" Derek asked.

"Oh, it's my contact. It keeps getting weird and..." she blinked twice. "Huh. There it goes. No. Yes. No. Ow."

Katharine laughed. She knew exactly what her friend was feeling. Contacts could be finicky from time to time and the occasional discomfort often had her reaching for her glasses. They could take some time to get used to.

"You'll get used to them, Penny," Katharine assured, resting her chin on the back of the seat. "Just don't forget to blink."

DUE TO THE HIGH SPEEDS OF THEIR PRIVATE JET, the commercial flight of one hour and thirty minutes had been cut down to just an hour. The perks of having a private jet, Katharine figured. Though if they had flown in on a Quinjet, the ride would have taken about thirty minutes less which would have been both a blessing and a curse.

They rode up to Akron PD in three separate SUVs. In the first SUV was Hotch, Rossi, and Garcia. The second held Katharine and Spencer while the third had Derek and Emily, who were on their way to the crime scenes.

"Detective Crowley?" Garcia greeted upon entering the station. Katharine plastered a smile onto her face. For a reason unknown to her, the ride in had been awfully tense between the two. They had barely even looked at each other the entire ride in.

"Miss Garcia," the detective, David Crowley, shook Garcia's hand. "Thanks for coming. And she emailed pictures of you guys. Agents Hotchner, Rossi, Katharine, and Dr. Reid, right? It's doctor, not Agent, and Katharine, not Morgan. She was specific about you two."

Katharine raised her hand in greeting as did Spencer.

"What else was she specific about?" Hotch asked, looking over at their trial communications liaison.

"Everything your team needed," the detective said. "I sent her a list of family members who'd be willing to talk, and your boards are over there, all ready for you to set them up. I even got the push pins you asked for."

Katharine nodded in appreciation. Garcia had really thought of everything, she was impressed.

Spencer and herself excused themselves from the group upon finding out Robert Keppler's father had arrived. It had been decided that Rossi and Spencer would take on the father while Katharine helped Garcia set up the boards while waiting for Scott Hartway's mother.

When Scott Hartway's mother, Beth, arrived, Katharine took her into the same room Spencer, Rossi, and Alphonse Keppler had just been in.

"Hello Mrs. Hartway," Katharine greeted. She motioned to the seat closest to the windows for the woman to sit in. Katharine watched as she sat with her purse clutched in her grasp. "I'm Agent Katharine Morgan, I just had a few questions about your son."

Beth Hartway looked down at her hands, most likely trying to avoid shedding any tears. Katharine reached for the tissue box that had been settled by the front door, moving them to the table as a just in case.

"Can you walk me through a typical day in your son's life?" Katharine asked softly, taking the seat across from the woman.

"Scott was at the Post Office by seven every morning," Beth said, pride edging its way onto her face. "He had his eye on that branch manager office. He wanted to run the whole zip code."

Katharine nodded. "He sounded very driven."

"Oh he was."

"Can you tell me if he had any enemies at work?" she asked, pushing the box closer to the mother. Beth Hartway thanked Katharine silently before taking a shaky breath.

"Um, I supposed one could say that Scott stepped on toes to get what he wanted, but he was shooting for branch manager. By the end of the year. He--he'd have made it, too."

"Was he that way his entire life?" Katharine asked.

"Class president 4 years in a row. So many All-Americans..." she made a brave attempt at a smile. "He ran out of room on his varsity jacket."

"What about college?" Katharine asked.

Mrs. Hartway finally did manage to smile. "Top of his class. I was very proud."

Katharine thanked Mrs. Hartway for her time, handing her business card to the older woman, and letting her know she would be in touch with any questions they might have. She let the older woman clean up a bit before opening the door, instructing her on where the bathrooms were before rejoining her teammates by the boards that had been set up in the conference room.

She informed Hotch on the interview, comparing it to Mr. Keppler's interview.

"So both victims were alpha males?" Hotch said after listening to Katharine's report.

"It's the only trait that connects the couples," Rossi said.

"We know that female type isn't specific to this unsub, but what if this is?" Spencer interjected. Katharine made her way to her bag and drew her water bottle, taking a few sips before placing it on the table.

"Typically, alpha males only attack other alphas," Hotch said.

"That's how the unsub sees himself," Katharine said from where she stood. "These men are the only competitors he takes seriously."

"And the overkill on the wives is an expression of control in alpha male terms," Spencer provided. "He's proving his dominance over his rival by obliterating their mate."

"We need more details about these men's lives," Hotch said, already thinking ahead. "I'll have Garcia pull up more personal information. Detective, have you seen Ms. Garcia?"

The detective stopped mid-step, pointing over his right shoulder. "She's outside talking to a reporter. Guy from the local paper wanted a quote from the FBI."

Katharine rolled her eyes at the thought of the reporters. Once upon a time she had wanted to be one of them, and then she was recruited into SHIELD and realized that while she loved writing, nothing would ever top being an agent. Her job was something she loved. She'd have to die before she stopped loving what she did.

Not too long after, Emily and Derek entered the station. Katharine took it upon herself to introduce them to Detective Crowley, seeing as Garcia was still outside with Hotch.

Emily asked her where Hotch was and just as she was about to answer, Katharine saw him walk in through the doors. She pointed behind her friend, who thanked her before flitting off to let Hotch know they were about to reveal what they had figured out about their most recent victims.

"This is the second crime scene," Emily said upon returning to the conference room with Hotch in tow. "The unsub took the Hartways to Lovers Lane. Then he turned the heat up in the vehicle and tuned the radio to a soul music station."

" This is the first crime scene," Derek said, swiping on his tablet. Katharine followed suit and swiped on her own. "Al Green was in the CD player, candles had been lit."

"He's staging the scene," Hotch realized.

"Control is critical to him," Emily said. "We know this. But to a different end than we initially thought."

"These murders are about the fantasy," Derek said. "Only the fantasy isn't sadistic, it's romantic."

"Well, we profiled from the interviews that he's picking the husbands first," Spencer said. "How's that romantic?"

Emily shrugged. "Alpha males marry the most attractive females. Once he meets the husband, he knows the wife is gonna fit his needs."

"We know this unsub is impotent, but what we're seeing here isn't the usual psychological block keeping him from getting aroused," Derek revealed. "This is physiological."

"How can you be sure of that?"

"He brings Viagra to the crime scenes," Emily said. "If he wanted, he could pop a pill, let the drug take effect. Instead, he gives it to the husbands. Why?"

"It's not working for him anymore," Rossi said, folding his hands together.

"Something definitely happened to this guy," Derek said. "Prostate cancer, surgery, something. But whatever it was, it cut him off from fulfilling his needs, so he's using the couples as surrogates."

Katharine furrowed her brow. "So why does he make the husband wear a condom?"

Derek shook his head. "Well, we don't know that connection yet."

"He's going to kill the husbands anyway," Katharine continued. "He can't perform on the wives. The condoms are redundant."

"If the theory's right, he's acting out a fantasy in which contraception plays a key role," Hotch said. Katharine tapped her pen against the pages of her notepad, creating a low tapping sound. Spencer reached over and confiscated her pen, sliding it into his pocket. "Until we understand what the role is, we're not gonna find him."

Katharine glared at the boy genius, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She reached over and stole his cup of coffee sticking her tongue out at him. She took a sip and made a face at the extremely sweet beverage.

"I don't understand how you drink your coffee like that," Katharine said, holding her hand out for her pen. Spencer placed the writing utensil in her palm, taking up his cup. He took a sip with a smile on his face.

And just like that, they were back on the same wavelength.